I believe in the church of baseball. I’ve tried all of the major religions and most of the minor ones. I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, trees, mushrooms and Isadora Duncan.
I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in the Catholic rosary and 108 stitches in a baseball. When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn’t work out between us. The Lord lay too much guilt on me.
I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there’s no guilt in baseball and it’s never boring, which makes it like sex. There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career.
Making love is like hitting a baseball. You just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I’d never sleep with a player hitting under 250 but unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great gloveman up the middle.
You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I got a ballplayer alone I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. But the guy will listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay.
I make them feel confident and they make me feel safe. And pretty. Of course what I give them lasts a lifetime. What they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade but bad trades a part of baseball. Well who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas for God’s sake.
It’s a long season and you gotta trust it. I’ve tried them all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in day out, is the church of baseball.
Annie Savoy, a character from the movie Bull Durham